A background of weapons grade puppy music

The demons have stopped dancing for a moment.  Their shadowy faces obscured by darkness.  

I am reflected by others as a series of dragons.  

Active  imagination, engaged.  In some sense.

I want to explain 

Friday, was a low for me.  

It culminated in an experience of myself as God, coupled with a supreme disappointment in myself as creator.  

A supreme sense of disappointment in my creation, in my incarnate vessel.  

If we are Gaud experiencing itself, I'm comforted that some aspect of the collective gaudy self is simultaneously aware of the 1800 Gaud more doom looming in the dark dank dark subconscious of the collective, and able to do something healthy with it.  

Which assumes that I'm JHVH-1's "Bob"-damned conscience.

I can only hope that I am one of many, a chorus of Jiminy Crickets.